Not far from him was a knot of lads drinking, swearing, and playing at dice as eagerly and as skilfully as any of the older hands. ‘I trust you are cursing Valade, and not Melusine. Ray Plote was most certainly feeling restless, what if he had left the house for the evening? She needed to eat. “You were never born,” he declared, “to follow the well worn roads. ” She did not wait for Ann Veronica’s reply. Quilt, meanwhile, came down, examined the door, and finding it unfastened, locked it with a bitter imprecation on his brother-janizary's carelessness.
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